


I'll Fucking Digest You One Kiss At A Time

by SutaMasque



Series: RGB: I have a vague recollection of this never happening [1]
Category: Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blood, Bloodplay, Consensual Violence, Hair-pulling, M/M, Messing Up Your Rival's Apartment For Sex, Probable Overuse Of Italics, Romantic Face Punching, Swearing, Tengo Is One Step Ahead As Usual, Too Many 'One Step Ahead' Jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 19:21:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9840482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SutaMasque/pseuds/SutaMasque
Summary: He knows it, when Jeego finds out about this, he'll be furious, and Tengo will be getting intimately acquainted with a kitchen counter for a while.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Jiiten literally owns my life now. We could even say it's _holding me at gunpoint_  
>  Title from [The Neighbourhood - Lurk](https://youtu.be/obTnxlo_wCo)  
> Have you ever gotten punched in the face sexually? WOULD YOU LIKE TO??  
> This is just highly self-indulgent porn, don't mind me and carry on 
> 
> Special thanks to [Delcat](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Delcat/pseuds/Delcat) for proofreading this and finding The Typo

Tengo is a masochist. When he first found out about it, he started using every opportunity to get messed up. Not on the job of course, there's little pleasure and minimum sexy in being murdered by your target's goons, but rather in more private settings. It doesn't help that his sworn enemy--who's also sometimes his partner, due to some cruel joke of life--has sadistic tendencies. 

There's blood. A lot of it, and it's everywhere in the foyer of a shabby apartment Jeego calls a base. It's really just a place to sleep and leave his shit when he doesn't need it. And sometimes Tengo comes around and does the same thing when his own place is further away from the mark. Even over his apparent neglect of the place, the nearsighted (read: the more stubborn) hitman keeps the place pristine and void of any liquids that shouldn't be there. 

Tengo has messed the entire foyer up by simply walking inside and making his way to the kitchen and the bathroom. To his credit, he doesn't do this often. Actually, he's fairly sure this is the first time, ever. But there's a first for everything and he squeezes the blood from his jacket right on the rug at the entrance. He tells himself he doesn't enjoy doing this, he hates his own space being unclean as much as he hates wasting a bullet after all, and while this place isn't his, the fact he's purposely making it untidier than it already is has him irked. But Tengo is also bored and tense with leftover adrenaline from the earlier encounter, and it's a fact that Jeego will tell him to fuck off if he doesn't mess with him at least a little bit first. 

He knows it, when Jeego finds out about this, he'll be furious, and Tengo will be getting intimately acquainted with a kitchen counter for a while. For how long will only depend on the extent of his rival-slash-lover's anger of course, not that Tengo has ever complained otherwise. 

He tries to fix his glasses, which only results in him smearing blood all over the lenses. With a curse, Tengo takes them off to assess the damage. Somewhere deep in his mind flashes a thought that it's probably better to be one step ahead and start the acquainting, albeit not as intimate, before his rival even comes ho--to the drop-off point. He keeps reminding himself that even though it's a flat, it's not a home, and definitely not his. The thought goes as soon as it comes. There's no fun in that - don't prompt angry hate-sex on the kitchen counter if you want to actually have it. 

He's lucky most of the blood on the floor isn't his. Getting close and personal with his targets isn't what Tengo does, and that's not even because he's farsighted, which he might or might not actually be. Accidents do happen though; he’s still made it off in a relatively good state, which can't be said about the man whose throat he slit, and his own bloody ruined suit, but the latter can be washed and the former is dead anyway, so who gives a fuck.

The large red puddle mixed with dirt at the entrance isn't done drying yet, and there's a sick pleasure Tengo feels from imagining Jeego step in it. Get his perfect shoes as dirty as his own, wouldn't that be just great? He leaves a handprint on the wall just for measure and smirks to himself. The blood-soaked fabric clings uncomfortably to his skin, but he doesn't let that interfere with the feeling of triumph over a little mischief. 

No, fuck that. He's definitely enjoying doing this. Or rather, he's enjoying pissing Jeego off, whatever that means. 

He washes the glasses, watching as pink water swirls down the drain, and waits in the living room. The blood on him is mostly dry by the time he falls on the old couch and turns on the TV. The news is covering a death of an important businessman, and Tengo is only left to mull over how fast the media manages react to tragedy. It hasn't even been a day. 

Eventually there's a click from the hall, a sound of an opening door, and a loud curse with a call of his name, to which Tengo tenses up a little but smirks. Jeego is already in a pissy mood and he likely hasn't been expecting a guest. He doesn't move, almost feeling paralyzed as he waits. The other hitman appears in the doorway, his face but a grimace of anger and - how delightful - his shoes are a mess. 

"You've ruined the wallpaper," he hisses. Starting from afar? Alright. Tengo watches Jeego give him a once over, eyes narrowing in an attempt to see him properly, concerned for a brief moment before he's fuming even more, "You did that on purpose you _asshole_ , are you just trying to piss me off?! You aren't even hurt!"

Jeego's fists are clenching and unclenching as nearly his entire face turns purple from the rush of blood. Despite the fact that the barely contained anger is making him feel kinda hot, the concern sticks out as an endearing detail to the younger hitman. Tengo sits up.

"Sorry they weren't rose petals, partner. Can't exactly buy flowers wearing bloody clothes like that," he chuckles. There's a gleam in Jeego's eye and Tengo thinks ' _he gets it'_ before the other hitman moves.

Pain flares as he's slapped hard, tasting blood in his own mouth as he doubles over, grabbing at his face. He's bitten his damn tongue. He can see his hat fall not far away from him, and Jeego's foot lands on it. Great. 

"Serves you right," Jeego mutters above him with an indignant huff, but his anger is seemingly quenched. That just won't do. Tengo holds back a groan at the sting and spits on the rug under his feet. It wasn't exactly white before, and it certainly isn't now. The red stain isn't all that big, but when Tengo looks up at Jeego, his eyes are glued to it, expression unreadable. The guilt lasts barely a second.

Tengo outright _moans_ as his hair is grabbed and his head is yanked backwards. "I ought to make you clean that with your mouth," Jeego hisses at him, "but you'll just end up making a bigger mess, won't you?" His tone is ice-cold, but the threat display doesn’t seem to faze Tengo in the slightest, who just grins through the pain, "Ain't you smart, partner?"

The air escapes his lungs then, choking as a fist connects with his gut. He wheezes, and the pain isn't a pleasurable kind for once. For a second he regrets everything and contemplates using the safeword, but reconsiders when Jeego practically _bites_ into his mouth despite him still desperately trying to catch his breath. 

It's a rough kiss, full of teeth, and tongue, and blood, and Jeego doesn't hesitate to add more red to the mix as he bites hard on Tengo's lip. His partner's body jerks in shock and recoils, but he doesn't relent until the contact is broken, both of them breathing hard and labored.

"Is this what you wanted, you pitiful asshole?" Jeego all but growls, grabbing Tengo's bloodied jacket and yanking it off his arms. The other hitman nods, licking blood off his lip, which makes his rival shiver. Their mouths crash together again but not for long; Jeego whispers to his shuddering partner's ear as the kiss breaks, "Where."

"The kitchen."

"Table?"

Tengo huffs out a laugh. "Table's for suturing, not fucking."

The table is completely off limits for everything, none of them ever eats at it. Not like you could eat at something with… _things_ on it. Mostly medical supplies and unpleasant memories, not body parts or blood. Though most of the time the two of them don't have encounters that go wrong, they’ve had to patch each other up before. It's not always the table, sometimes it's the couch or the bed, but the table is where all the necessary equipment is kept. 

"Where then?" Jeego's patience is running low and Tengo can easily hear that. The man hauls him up, but not without slamming his back into the wall, and Tengo nearly bites down on his tongue again when his head makes contact with the shittily painted concrete. He groans low in his throat and Jeego's hips stutter against his own.

"The counters?" Tengo offers weakly, trying to see past the stars in his eyes. This is going to give him a nasty headache later on. Despite that he's grinning, wide and toothy and the other man just wants to wipe that expression off his face.

Jeego frowns. "Bed's just too old-fashioned for you, ain't it?" He doesn't wait for a reply, just grabs his rival by the tie and tugs hard, making him stumble and follow in order not to get choked too hard. That's the idea, though. 

Tengo lets himself be shoved against one of the counters, but quickly turns to face Jeego, who's scowling at him like his face is the last thing he wants to see right now. That might actually be true, but Tengo hasn't had enough foreplay yet. Jeego is still fully clothed, and even though Tengo himself only lacks his jacket, the fact offends him. He reaches forward to kiss his rival's neck, deceptively gentle as his hands begin unbuttoning the other's clothing and loosening his tie.

Jeego never relaxes under his hands and mouth, even though he's letting himself be undressed without a question. The layers fall off his body right on the floor and he can feel Tengo grin against the junction between his neck and shoulder before he _bites down._ It's not gentle in the slightest, yet not enough to make him bleed.

He bears it for a bit, but when Tengo pulls away with a smug grin, he punches it right off. The younger chokes and grabs the edges of the counter to steady himself, eyes watering as Jeego watches blood drip on the other hitman's white shirt. 

What a nice way to pay him back for the mess in his foyer.

Tengo touches his bleeding nose and, thank god, it's not broken. He's vaguely aware he's being turned around and shoved against the counter, bleeding right down on the surface and his half-undone tie. When Jeego pushes their hips flush, it clears some of the fog, and Tengo allows himself a breathy whimper at the feeling of something delightfully hard pressing against his thigh. 

Getting fucked stupid sounds like a great idea right now.

Tengo pushes back as he feels Jeego reach forward, a gasp stuck in both of their throats. He feels hot like a slab of iron in a furnace and it's hard to breathe, not just because of the blood. Jeego's unbuttoning his shirt and running nails down his bare chest and abdomen while Tengo gyrates his hips against his partner's in a slow teasing motion. The hands stop on his hips to hold him in place and the show of control somehow makes the already boiling air even hotter. 

Jeego kicks his foot perhaps a little too gently. "Shoes, off." Tengo complies, too eager to do anything but tug them right off without undoing the laces. He can feel Jeego pat at the front of his trousers and he lets out a sound he will be ashamed of later as a hand squeezes him through the fabric. To his credit, Jeego isn't being gentle at all.

The hands move up, settling on Tengo's belt instead, and unfastening it while the man waits, lip held between his teeth. His trousers drop, his underwear tugged down, and he readily steps out of both.

"I think I like it," he hears Jeego speak behind him, flinching as the older man cracks a slap against his bare buttock, "having you obedient and silent like this for once. Should rough you up a little more often."

"This isn't even the worst you've made me bleed," Tengo retorts nasally, voice rough as he turns to take a look at the man currently undoing his own belt. "Oh." He watches Jeego drop his own pants and underwear to the floor with no hesitation. He likes what he sees. 

Jeego leans forward and bites Tengo's neck, leaving a bright little mark. "Wait. Don't move," he says with a tone that bears no argument and moves away to get out of the kitchen, presumably to the bedroom where all the 'supplies' are. 

The hitman hums and stays put, trying to wipe the blood off his face with his arm but only managing to smear it over his cheeks instead, whipping his head in Jeego's direction as he emerges with a bottle and a thin foil packet. The hitman grimaces at the mess Tengo has made of his face, but doesn't comment otherwise, not like he'll have to look at it. He puts everything in arm's reach and pushes Tengo forward once again, to which the other only gives a startled whimper. 

Tengo can feel his shirt ride up his back and groans, when Jeego's nails bite into the skin of his back and drag themselves down, likely leaving marks with how hard he's being clawed. Then there's a press of the hips against his backside again and he nearly growls, feeling more desperate by the minute. 

"Relax princess, we've got a lot of time for this, unless you're trying to be one step ahead again," Jeego hums behind him, anger seemingly gone and replaced by the usual snark, which can only mean one thing - taking his time. He hears a click of the cap and feels a hand on his person, but not where he's expecting it. 

Tengo's mouth falls slack as wet fingers wrap around his straining erection, and he bucks into the grip. Jeego makes a disappointed sound behind him and grips his hip with a free hand to prevent too much movement all the while stroking him lazily, which only further serves to agitate the younger hitman. 

"For fuck's sake Jeego," Tengo groans in annoyance, and Jeego just chuckles.

"What? Want 'em somewhere else?"

" _Yes_ , you insufferable _idiot!_ "

And then he's being slammed face-first into the surface of the counter and his nose starts bleeding again. He's lucky he doesn't get a piece of glass in his eye, or that his glasses are still alive and well at all. 

Oh god. 

A well-lubed finger slides into him, and then another when Jeego figures out Tengo hasn't gone for this without making the necessary preparations - for once god bless him for being one step ahead - and the other hand is still on his aching cock, _squeezing_ , and the younger can feel himself tear up again from the onslaught of contrasting sensations. He chokes back a sob and moves back, knowing full well he won't be stopped now. Jeego starts slow, but soon he's finger-fucking him roughly and that makes Tengo choke on his own blood and spit every other minute as he groans loud enough for the neighbors to hear. 

And then everything is gone - the hands, the pleasure, and the building pressure he's been desperately chasing. But that's not all and he knows it, he's hungry for it. 

It's quiet save for Tengo's rough breathing and the sound of the condom wrapper being removed. Then there's a hand on his back and Tengo takes the hint, propping himself up more comfortably as he's pressed against once more. He gives a pitiful sound at the press and the _slide_ , not from pain or pleasure. In fact, he's not even sure why all sorts of sounds are coming from his mouth as he's being plunged into. 

Jeego lets a single curse fall too, grabbing Tengo's hips for leverage to thrust slowly as he gets them both used to the feeling. 

He's not sure when it stops being slow and sweet and starts getting fast and desperate, but Tengo revels in everything Jeego is willing to give him, be it a slide _just there_ , or the growling sounds that can be classified as moans, even if with a stretch. Tengo's own noises grow in pitch when the older man fists a hand in his hair and tugs, before shoving his face, albeit more gently than before, down onto the surface of the counter. 

"Clean your mess up," he growls, and Tengo, despite an obligatory wince, starts lapping his own blood clean off the counter. His mouth is dry and his tongue hurts, which doesn't help in the least as he manages to do a little more than smear the bloody stains, but Jeego seems satisfied, honest to god _laughing_ above him, punctuated by a rougher thrust which halts an idea to ask what's so funny and throws it right out of Tengo’s mind. 

When his hair is free again, Tengo runs a hand through the sweaty locks and turns to look at his equally disheveled rival, glasses askew on his face and letting shameless _animal_ sounds fall freely from his lips. That prompts a reaction he doesn't expect, with Jeego leaning over him and leaving bites, each one harder than the other, all over his shoulders and back.

"Touch yourself," he groans wetly between the bites and Tengo easily complies. Doesn't need to be asked twice. He's already so wound up by the manhandling and his partner's weird god damn accuracy that he would have done it without having been prompted soon.

Between the wild sounds and erratic movement there's growing tension, Jeego's fingers digging harder into the flesh of Tengo's hips and Tengo's hand speeding up on himself, chasing what they both anticipate the most. 

He releases with a litany of broken moans and curses, paying no mind to the fact he’s thoroughly ruining the side of the counter. The man behind him doesn't relent even as Tengo begins shaking with overstimulation, not minding a little pain for what he's just been through. The telltale twitch inside of him and a bodily shudder against his back still make him sigh contentedly though, and he lets Jeego rest on top of him while they both catch their breath.

The older hitman twines his arms around Tengo's waist, exhaling shakily against his back.

"You alright?" he mumbles, pressing a small kiss against the sweat-slicked skin.

"Yeah," Tengo breathes, reaching to put a clean hand on Jeego's own.

"Good?"

"Great."

The two of them move to stand awkwardly, Tengo taking his ruined shirt and tie off while Jeego throws the used condom in the garbage bin. There's silence as the two of them assess the damage done to the side of the kitchen counter.

"Clean it up?" Jeego asks with a chuckle, burying his nose in his partner's hair as he wraps his arms around him once again.

"Oh _fuck no_ ," Tengo snaps in return, trying to turn to face the man currently holding him, "I ain't gonna-"

"Not with your mouth, sweetheart, I'm not cruel." There's a smile on Jeego's face when Tengo finally turns in his direction, and the younger grunts. 

"Later. Too lazy."

They find each other in Jeego's bed after having made sure Tengo wasn’t seriously hurt, tended to all the damage, and properly showered, talking about nothing in particular for a while until one of them falls asleep, followed by the other. 

Tengo will clean the foyer later too. After all, he hates leaving a mess like he hates wasting a bullet. 

**Author's Note:**

> No glasses were harmed in the process of writing this
> 
> I've also made [a pic](http://masquearts.tumblr.com/post/157418826342/) for this


End file.
